Mister In-Between
by Nienna Nir
Summary: After seventy years napping in a glacier there are always going to be loose ends to tie up, and that's why it's good to have the help of friends in high places. Part of the Series: Coulson Lives, but the Avengers might be the death of him.


"Are you all right?" The familiar voice made him wince and Steve drew in a shaky breath, trying to look up from his shoes to meet the question. Before he could lift his head a paper coffee cup appeared near his chest, a coaxing tilt shaking it and then it stilled. He stared at it a moment before carefully wrapping his fingers around it. "Milk, one sugar."

Steve raised his eyes slowly to meet Phil Coulson's gaze, his stomach pitching strangely as he watched Phil take a tentative sip from his own cup. He looked back down at the cup again, trying not to frown at the now familiar green logo on the side.

"I know you hate Starbucks," Phil offered in apology. "I couldn't get anything else, the stuff in the cafeteria is all decaf."

"It's ok," Steve shook his head, turning his eyes down the sterile white hall, even the carpet, mottled beige, seemed clinical. He glanced back down at the cup again before taking an experimental sip. The hot coffee warmed the back of his throat and he forced himself to ignore the strange taste. Phil was the only one who'd noticed his resistance to the national chain brands that were so, so very different than the world he used to know. It didn't taste like coffee and the skinny burgers didn't taste like beef and the strange, spongy buns didn't taste like bread. He wasn't sure what they were but they were as foreign as if they'd been imported from another planet.

"I keep feeling like this is a terrible idea," Steve admitted finally.

"You don't need to rush it," Phil offered. Steve only nodded.

"Where's Tony got to?" he asked presently, frowning slightly.

"He said he had some arrangements he wanted to make," Coulson shrugged. "I talked to the facility director, he assured me they'd make sure no one knew you'd ever been here. You don't have anything to worry about."

"Except actually going in there," Steve sighed. Phil nodded in agreement, giving him a sympathetic look.

"You're still here," Tony appeared through the doors at the end of the hall, flashing a smile at the young woman in scrubs at the nurse's station. She smiled back, her cheeks the faintest pink. "Good, I told Coulson not to let you make a break for it."

"I'm not going to run," Steve protested. Tony gave him an incredulous look.

"I had to get one of the nurses to deliver a little present for me," Tony stated, straightening his tie and smartening up his cuffs as if he were readying for a press conference. "Of course first I had to get the damn thing out of Heathrow. Why does customs always have to get on my back?"

"Because you ask for it," Phil observed. Stark glared at him.

"I'm not so sure about this any more," Steve admitted hesitantly.

"I should go in first and loosen up the room for you a little, yeah?" Tony asked nonchalantly. Steve stared at him for a long moment before nodding mutely.

"Don't let him run," Tony ordered, pointing a finger at Phil who met his eye with a condescending look as Stark swaggered down the antiseptic white hallway. Steve drew in a deep slow breath before squaring his shoulders and glancing at Phil before following after Iron Man, Coulson a step behind him. He came to the door at the end of the hall and leaned against the wall beside it, the soft strains of the Andrews Sisters meeting his ears. He bit his lip, holding his breath.

"Hey, how's my best girl?" Tony's voice was warm, cheerful, and it was met by a soft chuckle that was trying to be a delighted, youthful laugh.

"You flatterer, where have you been?" The familiar voice made his heart stop and Steve swallowed. "Anthony, darling, did your father send the gramophone? Tell Howard it's much too expensive, I can't accept it!"

"No, it's all me, Peggy," Tony answered. "I haven't been by to see you in a while and I felt badly. What's a few records between friends?"

"Oh you have an excuse," she chided gently. "I'm sure you're busy with school and all that research you just have to do. You Starks, you're just not happy if you're not looking for things to blow up."

"Yeah well, it's genetic," Tony stated with a laugh. "If you want, I'll break you out of here and take you back to my lab and show you the new phone tech I've been working on."

"Oh you can keep it," she countered, delight clear in her voice. "I'm getting too old to put up with your nonsense."

"Then you have to keep the gramophone," Tony insisted. "It's only fair if you're not going to let me show off, you can at least let me spoil you."

"Well you can tell Howard he owes me more than a gramophone then," Peggy's tone was teasing despite the tremor in her voice. "It's been so long since he paid me a visit I've half forgotten what he looks like."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," There was no betrayal of emotion in Stark's words but it made Steve wince all the same. This was a horrible idea, what had he been thinking?

"He's still looking isn't he?" Peggy demanded, her voice sad. "Oh Anthony, I told him to stop ages ago but he never could. I don't want him to stop, I don't, but this obsession can't be good for him. Tell him I said that."

"Well as it turns out, he has stopped," Tony admitted. Rodgers cringed into the silence, his eye darting to Phil who wore an intractable expression. There was a breathless pause inside the room.

"You've found something, haven't you?" she demanded, her voice shaking and Steve could almost see Tony nod.

"I knew you'd never forgive me if I didn't come and tell you," Tony admitted.

"What did you find?" Her words thick with unshed tears.

"Everything," Tony replied. Steve drew in a steadying breath, swallowing hard as he stepped into the doorway. Tony glanced over his shoulder with a smile and Peggy looked up. Bright brown eyes grew wide with shock and a trembling hand grasped her throat. She was thinner now, frail, wrinkles creased the corners of her eyes and lips, her once delicate hands now marked by veins that showed through too thin skin. Her silver hair curled around her face in delicate wisps, but her eyes.

"Steven?" her voice shook with uncertainty.

"Hello, Peggy," he nearly choked on the words.

"You stood me up," she reminded, trying to look stern and failing miserably as her eyes brimmed with tears.

"I know," he answered thickly, crossing the room and perching on the edge of her bed as she grasped his hand. "I'm sorry, I had a really good excuse though."

"You're alive," she breathed out, her bony hands wringing his as if to convince herself. "My god, Steven." A tear trickled down her cheek and he reached out, gently brushing it away.

"You haven't changed a bit," he stated, tears stinging his own eyes, his smile bright as he folded her hand in his.

"You have," she murmured, her eyes gazing deep into his own. "You don't shy away when you look at me now."

"I was kind of afraid I'd never see you again," Steve admitted, drawing her frail hand to his lips and kissing it softly as Tony crept back to stand near the door.

"I'm going to make you take me out properly this time," She insisted, her tears once more spilling over.

"I'm afraid I haven't got any better at dancing," he admitted.

"I'll show you how," she insisted, her free hand coming to rest on his cheek. "Steven, I..."

"It's ok, really," he nodded, his breath hitching. "Everything's ok now."

"We left you down there," Peggy's voice was barely more than a whisper.

"No, you didn't," Steve shook his head. "You never stopped looking for me, any of you. I didn't want..." he swallowed around the lump in his throat.

"I just really wanted to see you again, Peggy," he said tenderly.

"I'm an old lady now," she declared, brushing her tears away with a self conscious laugh.

"I think you're beautiful," Steve declared. She looked up at him in surprise.

"You know, if you'd said that to me before," she began, her warm smile returning. Steve nodded.

"I was always afraid you'd laugh at me," he admitted. "Even after I... You were always just a little bit out of my league." She laughed at that, and her laugh sounded almost as it had that day he'd plunged below the ocean; young and desperate and full of tears and hope and acceptance.

"Never to me," she declared firmly. "Not ever."

"I'm sorry things couldn't have been different," Steve fought to keep his voice even. "I'm so sorry, Peggy. I wanted you to know that." There was the soft scratch of a needle on vinyl and the click as the gramophone arm lifted, moving back to settle on the rest. None of them had even noticed that the music had stopped playing. Peggy turned her eyes on the gramophone with a frown, her brow creasing in a perplexed expression.

"Do you want me to put on another record?" Tony offered, pushing off from the wall.

"Yes that would be lovely," She nodded, turning to look at him.

"I'll get it," Steve pushed off of the edge of the bed, crossing the short distance to the gramophone and taking off the record.

"You didn't by chance bring Glenn Miller with you, Howard?" Peggy asked, turning back to Tony. Steve froze, his hands trembling as he stared down at the record jacket in his hands. He turned his head slowly to look over his shoulder at Tony, his eyes wide with alarm.

"Honestly don't remember what I brought," Stark answered with a shrug, his outward expression showing no sign at all that he'd even heard the error.

"It really is nice of you to think of me while I'm in hospital," Peggy sighed. "But I do hope you're not neglecting your wife and son to be here. How old is little Anthony now, five, six?"

"Something like that," Tony nodded with an easy smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"You should really know the answer to that, Howard," she scolded. "You might have brought him along you know, he's a clever little fellow and I do so enjoy seeing him. You should spend more time with him, a boy needs his father."

"I spend quite a bit of time with him," Tony insisted.

"Not nearly as much as you spend searching," she said miserably. "Howard, I know you feel like you failed him, we all do, but he wouldn't have wanted this. Maybe it's time you let it go?"

"Don't worry, Peggy," Tony insisted, taking her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Everything's going to be fine." The words made Steve feel dizzy and he choked, grasping the corner of the table. Peggy turned to look at him, brown eyes shuttered as if the light were fading behind them.

"A friend of yours, Howard?" she asked warmly.

"He's on my team," Tony answered quickly as Steve's face fell. "This is Steve."

"I knew a Steven once," Peggy said thoughtfully, turning to him with a friendly expression. "He was quite the heroic sort. You don't look anything like him though."

"I'm not the heroic sort," Steve replied, his voice trembling.

"He stood me up on a date once," Peggy stated wistfully.

"You look tired," Tony said with more gentleness than Steve would have believed possible from him. "Why don't we step out and let you get a rest?"

"I am a bit worn," she nodded

"I'll check in with you later," Tony gave her hand another squeeze, leaning down to brush a kiss on her cheek.

"Be sure to bring Maria and the baby with you next time," She settled back in the pillows, closing her eyes.

"I'll do that," Tony assured. He moved the few steps to Steve, grasping his arm and half shoving him out into the hall, the door clicking shut behind them. Steve's hand touched the opposite wall and his knees half buckled. He leaned in, drawing in a shaky breath as he rested his forehead against the cold plaster.

"I'll get the car," Phil offered, his tone impassive. His perfectly polished shoes making barely a sound as he retreated down the corridor.

"What the hell was I thinking?" Steve bit back a sob, his broad shoulders trembling.

"You were thinking you never got to say goodbye," Tony shrugged easily. Steve swallowed down the urge to be sick, his ears buzzing as he tried to focus on Tony's voice.

"I never got to say goodbye to my folks," Tony admitted uncomfortably, glancing away, his shoulders hunched in that way that made him look as if he didn't have any more damns to give. "I was practically a kid at the time and it screwed me up, I just wanted one last chance. I guess there's a part of me that still does. At least you had that, you know, one last chance. Even if it does sting like a bitch at least you have it. Most people don't get it." Steve nodded slowly, drawing in a long, shaky breath before turning, pressing his back to the wall.

"She's not going to remember I was ever here," his voice trembled and he closed his eyes, letting his head fall back.

"Yeah, probably not," Tony nodded in agreement. "I still come and see her when I can. Sometimes I'm Anthony and she wants to know how MIT is and sometimes I'm Howard and she wants to know how Anthony's doing in school or when Maria's due. But every once in a while I'm Tony, just Tony, and she asks if I'm all right because she remembers what's happened. Most of the time I wish she didn't. So who knows." Steve opened his eyes, blinking back the tears and swallowing hard. He pushed away from the wall, squaring his shoulders.

"Let's go," he said resignedly. He felt Tony's hand rest between his shoulder blades for only a fraction of a second before Stark set off down the corridor. Steve gave himself a slight shake before following after him, lengthening his strides to catch up.

"Tony," he said with a questioning tone. Stark nodded. "thanks."

"No problem," he answered, pushing open the doors as they strode into the sunlight.


End file.
